Wide Open
by WorriedSmile
Summary: Although some part of him always knew, it never really sunk in for Kurt that there were other gay kids at Dalton besides him and Blaine. That soon changes. Warning: pre-Klaine and depiction of Eating Disorder & OC's


A/N: Alright just going to go out there and say it, I never expected this story to go anywhere. I really just wanted it to be a outlet for me and my problems but apparently it somehow grew on me and the words never came as easily as when I started writing this so I just decided to let Oliver(my muse, yes I named him) take me where he wished. My OC's will be a big part of this story so I'm sorry if you find them annoying. I'll try to make them as un Mary-Sue as possible as well as try my best not to make them bleeding hearts because I honestly hate bleeding hearts. Also there will be a Eating Disorder depicted in this story so if that isn't for you please don't hesitate to back space outta here. I want to insult no one and trigger nothing. There will be slash so if that isn't up your alley please backspace outta here as well. The pairings will be OC/OC and Kurt/Blaine because I would never slash a character that I make with someone as amazing as Kurt Hummel or Blaine(and I'm totally in love with them being together!). Please review if you enjoyed it at all or if you hated it, tell me why. I'm all about making myself a better writer. This is my second story so please try and be gentle with me and Oliver :) Now that that's covered, let's get this show on the road, shall we?

**Disclaimer: I own nothing (except my OC's)**

* * *

Nobody ever says how hard it is. It's like, perhaps they decided collectively to leave that part out. Or maybe they just don't think about it while they do it. But he'd been in this bathroom for twenty minutes, continuously shoving his fingers down his throat. It took three tries till anything came up and it was tiring. But he needed it, he knew he did. If he wasn't such a fat ass then he wouldn't need to resort to this.

Just a few more times and he would be done. The shower is running and it gives a therapeutic noise for him; he'd tried it in dead silence before and he could never seem to do it properly, so, along with completing the task of masking the noise and giving him something to listen to, the running water was necessary.

One more time. Gag. Gag. Throw up. Flush. Done.

He gets up to brush his teeth, trying to avoid the mirror but not quite being able to help himself. He looks like hell. His, usually pale skin is pink in places, his nose runny, his eyes watery, not to mention everything else. He wasn't eating anything tomorrow, he decides. Though he knew he might not have a choice. This school wasn't the best place for him and his eating habits to coexist peacefully. His friends might want to eat with him again and then he'd be forced to eat.

Sighing glumly, he watches himself spit and rinse. He starts taking his clothes off; then, jumps in the shower. His stomach is angry with him but he ignores it, like mostly everything else. His roommate had brought delicious sugary treats to their room and they were the reason why he had felt the need to rid himself of their fattening calories. He hadn't been able to help himself. It had been mostly salads and apples for the last month and a half and he, stupidly though that maybe he might have deserved a treat. What an idiot. Of course he didn't.

He viciously towels himself down, done with his shower. He hesitantly approaches the mirror and cringes at the damage his little escapade had done. He'd swear on his prized collection of weights that he could see more of his ribs that morning and his collar bone had been more defined. Now, well now look at him! Ugly, ugly, disgusting, fat! He didn't care what anyone said, he wasn't eating tomorrow. That thought calms him down and it's then that he notices that he had been freaking out, his breath picking up and his heart racing. He ignores this and changes into the pajamas he'd set out for himself, then exits the bathroom.

His roommate who had been on his bed, watching T.V, looks over at him.

"Hey man, I was waiting for you to get out. You spend a longer time in their than my sister at home does." He's only teasing him of course, as he knows already how long his roommate takes in the bathroom.

"Sorry Todd, it's all yours—" A thought hits him, "On second thought," he says quickly, "wait one moment." He rushes in the bathroom to the cabinet and pulls out Febreze, then proceeds to spray the restroom, mostly focusing on the toilet area. Finished he puts it back and goes back into the other room to find his roommate gathering up his toiletries.

"Satisfied?" Todd asks him, amused. He knows what his roommate did, has seen him do it before and probably figures he has some kind of OCD with smells.

"Yup." He smiles, small and fake. Todd doesn't notice. "Good night Todd."

"G'night man."

He walks toward his bed, hears the bathroom door shut, then curls up under his comforter, closes his eyes and lets his mind drift.

* * *

He doesn't actually get to sleep until three in the morning, long after his roommate showers and falls asleep in his own bed. It was a restless sleep and too soon he hears his alarm clock blare and it's time to get up.

He turns the alarm off, forces himself from his bed, and gathers his toiletries for another shower. In the whole school he's probably the one that bumps the schools water bill up the most but he just doesn't feel clean and shiny and new without another shower.

After he brushes his teeth twice(he needs to feel clean and be clean) and puts his uniform on. He's out the door, with the supplies necessary for his classes, right as Todd starts to stir. He finds it almost scary how his roommate could sleep through an air bombing attack yet still wake promptly to the internal clock in his head, set at 6:45, everyday on the dot.

He yawns as he walks down the stairs to the Commons room and finds himself a nice chair to plop down on. His stomach gives an angry growl but he ignores the nauseous feeling and hits it once with his fist as if to shut it up.

"Kurt, your up early!"

He jumps in surprise and turns around, making sure the chair hides him from view. He'd thought he was alone but apparently not.

"Blaine! I just wanted to get some studying done, you know, harder classes." He knew Blaine—well everyone knew Blaine- and New kid, Kurt Hummel from Warblers but they didn't know _him_, which is how he liked it. New kid was sitting in the corner reading, which was why he didn't see him, and Blaine sat down next to him.

"You'll get used to it!" Blaine sounded disgustingly cheerful this early in the morning and he scowls from his place on the coach, his stomach letting loose a particularly vicious growl.

"Oh I know I will" said New kid, confidently, causing Blaine to chuckle and it's so disgustingly sweet that he feels a little like he's impeding on some private moment. He feels like_ he's_ the one doing something wrong. He hates feeling like that: guilty. There are two doors on either side of the Commons room; New kid and Blaine are on one side and he's on another, Blaine entered on the side he wasn't on which is why, he, luckily or unluckily wasn't seen, and remained undetected until _he_ came into the room.

"Gene! Your up early." Rhys says, chipper, unknowingly echoing Blaine's words from earlier. He dredges up a slight but genuine smile, he and Rhys aren't really friends, he's only in love with the other boy. That's all.

"Yeah..." he says quietly.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone else was in here." Blaine calls over politely, like he wasn't just making moon eyes at new kid.

"It's okay." he calls back, a little louder than usual so he's heard.

"Hey, wait." Kurt says, closing his book and coming over. "I know you, we have class together." They did? Gene never noticed. "English and Physics, right?" Apparently so.

"Guess so." he whispered.

"And Warblers." Blaine adds, eyes sparkling as he comes over. "Your both in it right?"

"Yeah." Rhys says, while Gene nods.

"Kurt Hummel." New kid holds out his hand to Gene, who takes it clumsily.

"...um I kn-know. Gene Chandler." He gives the other boys hand a quick shake and lets go. With everyone else standing, he finds it awkward and even lazy of himself to be sitting, so he quickly stands, wobbling slightly.

"I'm Rhys Loring." Rhys takes Kurt's hand gently and shakes, "welcome to Dalton, I know it's a little late."

Kurt smiles back, charmingly. "Thank you, and only by about a month, welcomes are always welcomed." he chuckles and Gene sees Blaine hide a smile as he steps forward.

"I don't think we've ever been properly introduced, I'm Blaine Harrington."

"Yes. I know, our bread winner." Rhys says, smiling politely, if a little cold and Gene is confused. If Blaine noticed anything amiss, he never said because in the next moment Gene's stomach let loose it's loudest cry for food yet. Gene glares at it, blushing and hoping it only sounded loud because it came from within him.

"Hungry?"

No such luck. Gene feels even more blood rush to his face as he shakes his head at Rhys. He was not hungry; his stomach was just being stupid.

"Well it sounds like you are and I'm hungry, so come on! Let's get breakfast together." Gene smile comes out forced and unnatural. He hadn't expected this. There's no way he can say 'no' to Rhys. But he can't eat either, he already set himself back with his little 'treat' to himself last night.

"...um okay." The words feel like glass. But, he'll just have to make a quick trip to the toilet before class. He awkwardly waves goodbye to Blaine and New kid as he and Rhys leave the room.

He could do this.

He could.


End file.
